I Can't Let You Be
by VenusInHerHair
Summary: "I Can't Let You Be": Hermione's crush on her professor leads her to make an unwise decision, and Sirius' desire gets the better of him. Hermione/Sirius. AU: Seventh Year. Sirius is alive and is the new DADA professor, Hermione (now 18) is not with Ron. Warnings: Abuse, Language, Non-con, Rape, OOC Sirius. Rated: M. 17 . One shot. No copyright infringement intended! Rights to JKR.


**I Can't Let You Be**

**A Hermione/Sirius FanFiction**

By VenusInHerHair

"I Can't Let You Be" Hermione's crush on her professor leads her to make an unwise decision, and Sirius' desire gets the better of him. Hermione/Sirius. AU: Seventh Year. Sirius is alive and is the new DADA professor, Hermione (now 18) is not with Ron. Warnings: Abuse, Language, Non-con, Rape, OOC Sirius. Rated: M. 17+.

***AU: Seventh Year. Sirius didn't die, and was employed to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts. Hermione is not with Ron.***

Sirius Black was trying his best not to stare. After all, staring was most certainly not appropriate in this situation. Professors were not meant to stare at their Seventh Years. And Godfathers were most definitely not meant to stare at their godson's best friends. But then again, surely Seventh Years were not meant to be so attractive...

"Get a hold of yourself, Padfoot," Sirius berated himself, picking up a stack of Third Year essays and shuffling them on his desk, all the while unable to take his eyes off the girl in the second row. In an effort to distract himself, he rose and headed across to the black board to write up the class' homework assignment for the week. He cursed under his breath on finding that there was no chalk on the wooden ridge beneath the board, and turning found Hermi- Miss Granger - smiling up at him from her work, head tilted to the side.

They locked eyes for a split second, and Sirius couldn't help letting a smile reach his lips, before breaking the brief connection and reaching across the desk to retrieve the stub of white chalk, which he then used to complete his task. When he turned back around to sit down at his desk, he could feel Hermione's eyes on him still. Out of the corner of his he could see she was holding her quill absentmindedly, the tip just touching her bottom lip. Rising suddenly, Sirius clapped his hands to get the classes attention, and dismissed them promptly when the clock struck five, after motioning to the essay title scrawled on the board.

As the rest of her classmates scattered, looking forward to the long evening ahead of them, Hermione lingered, and waited for the room to empty before clearing her throat delicately.

"Professor?"

Sirius answered without looking up from his pretend-marking, "Miss Granger."

Hermione persevered, moving forward to stand before his desk. "I was wondering if you'd help me with something?"

"Miss Granger," Sirius replied, finally allowing himself to look up at her, "I've said it before and I'll say it again, you are the brightest witch of your age. I'm not sure what I could help you with at this point in your schooling".

"My essay," she replied calmly, her voice not giving away her thumping heart. "Would you look over it quickly, just to see I'm on the right track?"

Sirius took the outstretched essay, somewhat reluctantly, and cast his eyes over the first couple of neatly written paragraphs. As expected, Hermione was most definitely on the right tracks, and he told her as such, complimenting her sophisticated style. Still, she seemed reluctant to leave, and, truth be told, Sirius could think of worse ways to spend time than with the beautiful young witch perching on the edge of the desk nearest to him.

"It's an excellent start, Hermione, I'm confident the rest will be just as good. If you'd like though, I'd be happy to read the rest and discuss it with you before the deadline tomorrow. After dinner, perhaps?"

Hermione's smile was jubilant. "That's so kind of you, Sirius - I'm so sorry, Professor".

Sirius chuckled fondly, standing and escorting to her to door with a firm hand on her shoulder. "Come to my office at 9, we'll go through it together," he said softly, leaning down so that his breath tickled her ear, as he held the door open for her to pass through.

He let her take a few steps down the empty corridor before adding "And Hermione, don't be late". He shut the door as she turned round, but not before noting the slight blush which had spread across her cheeks. 9pm couldn't come quickly enough.

Hermione's heart beat faster as she exited the classroom and hurried back to the Gryffindor Tower, barely avoiding a collision with a gaggle of First Years in her absentmindedness.

The school term had only been going for a few weeks, but in that time Hermione had been developing less than platonic feelings for Harry's godfather. She had resented the feelings at first, suppressing her urge to admire the man as he taught, but she had grown tired of covering up her crush and was pleased to find that Sirius had often been watching her when she looked up at him. She could not let her believe that he might have any deeper feelings for her, but she was now sure that he was at least mildly fond of her, and was excited to have the chance to see him again out of hours. Although Hermione told herself she would be relieved when her crush subsided, another stronger part of her wanted to flirt a little with Sirius, if not attempt to seduce him. With that in mind, she wasted no time in perfecting her skirt-shortening charm upon returning to her dormitory...

At 8.56, Sirius Black found himself in a state of moral dilemma. Having been swept up in the moment earlier, he had now had time to think, and was back to berating himself for his less than honourable invitation to the barely 18 year old witch who was, at any moment now, going to knock on his office door. How could he even consider... - she was Harry's best friend. She was young enough to be his daughter, for Merlin's sake!

But, then again, she had seemed very eager to return - she'd asked him for extra attention in the first place! She'd been watching him in class for the last few weeks, becoming less and less subtle - of course, he only knew this because he'd noticed her watching him as he tried to admire her. They were both guilty of admiring the other. But he was her teacher - he should know better! But she was the brightest witch of her age...But-

Sirius' thoughts were interrupted by three knocks on his office door. His mind was made up upon seeing Hermione on the threshold, top two buttons open seductively, tie loose around her neck, and school skirt definitely shorter than it had been earlier in the day. She thought she knew what she was doing - they both did.

Hermione tugged nervously at her tie before checking her watch for the fifth time - 8.59pm. She knocked three times on the heavy wooden door, and stepped back as Sirius revealed himself behind it.

His striking grey eyes roamed her body as an utterly wicked smirk spread across his lips. "Hermione, you..." Sirius trailed off as their eyes met. He sighed. "Come in." He touched the small of her back as he led her into his office, pleased when she gasped slightly, and then tried to cover it up with a small cough.

"Sit on the couch over there, Hermione," he ordered gently, gesturing to the brown leather couch across the room. "Would you like a drink?"

"Thank you," Hermione replied, settling nervously on the edge of the seat. She licked her lips as she shifted uncomfortably, wishing she'd charmed her skirt a little longer now that she was seated. Was this really a good idea?

"Here," Sirius smirked, leaning down to pass her a glass of firewhiskey.

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" Hermione giggled nervously, clinking glasses as he sat down next to her, perhaps a little too close to be appropriate.

"Most definitely," he answered in a low, serious voice, his free hand brushing her leg for the briefest of moments before reaching across her to retrieve her essay. As he leaned across, Hermione could smell his spicy cologne, and see his five o'clock shadow. Her heart beat faster.

Hermione sipped her drink as Sirius ran his hand up and down the side of the parchment, apparently rereading part of her essay. The firewhiskey burned the back of her throat, and she could feel a warmth spreading across her cheeks. She set the glass down on the table in front of her, and caught a lock of hair which had escaped from behind her ear, playing with it as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She started as his hand caught hers, his fingers entwining themselves between hers.

"You seem nervous..." he whispered huskily.

"The firewhiskey..."

"Do I make you nervous?" he asked in a low voice, ignoring her attempt at an explantation.

"I-," Hermione stuttered, avoiding his probing gaze until he caught her chin in his hand and tilted it up to face him directly. His eyes searched hers until she swallowed nervously, and he released her chin.

"Hermione, what are we doing?" He murmured "Just..." His eyes fluttered down to her lips before returning to her eyes. "Kiss me."

He leaned in close, stopping just short of her lips, she could smell the alcohol on his breath as he exhaled. Something had changed in him. She knew this was wrong... But she couldn't help herself. Hermione closed the space between their lips.

The kiss they shared was fervent, full of suppressed desires and passionate. Sirius stroked a long finger along his student's jaw as his other hand fisted in her hair, pulling her closer to him. She moaned as he drove his tongue into her willing mouth.

Sirius wasn't thinking anymore, controlled solely by his desire and the firewhiskey in his system. He pushed her down onto the couch, crawling in between her legs, running his hands across her lower abdomen as her shirt rode up her slim waist. She groaned as he kissed her neck and gripped his upper arms, noting how hard with muscle they were beneath her small hands.

"Sirius..."

He grabbed her hips roughly and pulled her towards him, thrusting against her once. He paused briefly and looked down at the young witch below him, her mouth slightly open to accommodate her heavy breathing. Just a girl. So young...

He wondered how far she'd gone in the past, with Krum or with Weasley, how far she'd let him go,. Her already short skirt had ridden up further, exposing more of her shapely legs. His calloused hands roamed up her thighs, stopping just short of her core. He took ahold of the waistband of the skirt and tore it off her, ripping the fabric down the middle, eliciting a small cry from Hermione.

His mouth covered hers once more, kissing her passionately, and his roaming hand reached the cotton of her underwear. He stroked her gently, and she moaned, closing her eyes and tipping her head back. He had to have her. He needed to take her, make her his. He forced her underwear aside, emitting a low growl as she pulled his hand away.

Hermione saw his eyes darken and knew she'd let this go on too far. She had to stop him. For the first time in a long time, she felt a pang of fear of Sirius Black. He was stronger by far than she was and apparently prepared to use that hard-earned strength against her.

The worst part was that she'd gotten herself into this situation in the first place. She felt she had no one to blame but herself.

"Please stop. I don't want to do this." She implored, her eyes searching his for any sign of understanding. His hand once again pressed against her core.

"Sirius, please..." She cried out as he pushed his hand harder against her. "Stop-".

"Don't tell me you don't want this, Hermione, you sought me out. I've seen the way you've been looking at me these past weeks: you want me. Don't you dare deny it."

She tried desperately to push him off her, but he simply grabbed her wrists and pulled them roughly above her head, eyes darkening dangerously.

"Please, stop..." Hermione begged, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks. "We can't do this, tonight was a mistake, please-"

"Don't give me that, you've been trying to attract my attention, and now you really have provoked me. There's no need to feel guilty, I won't tell anyone..." He smirked his wicked smirk, his raven hair tickling her cheek as he leant further towards her to whisper in her ear:

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way, love. Either way, I am going to fuck you tonight."

"No, I'll tell..." She tried, realizing even as she said it that it was an empty threat: who could she tell? This was her own fault. Sirius chuckled.

"Who are you going to tell, exactly, Miss Granger? No one's going to believe you. Not that it would matter if they did. All I'd have to do is tell them what a little slut you are. You don't want that now, do you?"

Hermione whimpered under his cruel gaze, tears falling rapidly over her cheeks as the desperation of her situation sunk in.

"You're going to let me do this, aren't you love?" he sneered down at her. The man from her lesson earlier was no where to be seen. This Sirius was terrifying her. Why had she been so stupid?

"Please, Sirius," she tried again, "I'm...I'm a virgin" His eyes met hers, she thought he looked almost triumphant.

"I love that" he hissed, brutally thrusting two fingers into her. Hermione screamed, squirming beneath him desperately. She whimpered as he withdrew his fingers a few moments later, wiping them carelessly on her white school blouse. He sat back on his heels and unzipped his trousers, ignoring her pleas.

"On your knees" he ordered, pushing her forcefully by the shoulders onto the wooden floor below. The girl was still crying, shuddering as cries racked her slight frame.

"Suck me" he commanded, his hands gripping her hair painfully. She pursed her lips and shook her head, her eyes downcast.

"Open your mouth, Hermione." His tone was cold, controlling. Disturbing. When she still disobeyed him, he pinched her nose, and before long her mouth was open to him. He pushed himself into her mouth, moving her head further down. She struggled not to gag as he held her head down. She couldn't believe this was happening. It seemed unreal.

After what seemed like minutes to Hermione, he pulled her up and lifted her back up onto the couch, pushing her down on her back, before quickly shedding his trousers and boxers.

"I'm going to fuck you now. Keep your eyes open. I want to see you when I claim you." He spread her legs roughly and ignored her cries of protest as he slammed into her.

Hermione screamed out and pushed in vain against his rock hard chest as she felt him tear through her virginity. She hoped the pain would subside. It did not. Her head rolled to the side, her eyes screwed shut in pain.

"Open" Sirius growled, pinching her thigh sharply. Hermione didn't care about the extra jolt of pain. She was in Hell anyway. It felt as if he was ripping her apart.

Sirius moaned in pleasure as he thrust in and out Hermione; she was so tight. In that moment, Sirius didn't regret a thing.

When he had finished with her body, Sirius pulled out of the girl, and cleaned himself with magic, before quickly dressing him. Hermione lay on the couch, paralyzed by fear, not daring to move. Her arms flopped by her sides, one hand nearly touching the wooden floor. She kept her eyes closed, trying to deal with the pain this man had inflicted on her body.

Sirius had moved across the room to pour himself another glass of firewhiskey. Hermione could hear the tinkling of the liquid as it fell into the glass, and could smell a faint whiff of the stuff. If she never saw firewhiskey again she'd be more than happy.

Sirius suddenly seemed to remember her, and stalked towards her, ever the predator.

"Get up." He ordered, his voice cruel and cold. With a flick of his wand he had fixed Hermione's skirt, but did nothing to clean the blood from her legs.

She rose shakily, refusing to meet his harsh gaze.

"I don't think I need to remind you, Hermione," he hissed, "that what happened here tonight is our little secret. Remember: you only have yourself to blame for provoking me. No one would be on your side if you decided to moan. So keep your mouth shut." He scooped her essay parchment off the table where it had been abandoned, and thrust it into her hands. "Make sure this is finished for tomorrow. No excuses, Miss Granger". With that, he held open the door for her to leave.

Hermione scuttled past her attacker, one of men she had most trusted in her life before tonight, and hurried back to the Gryffindor Tower. Her spirit had been broken.

When she curled up under her covers that night, Hermione hoped she'd never wake up.


End file.
